


so capricious.

by red__moon



Series: brief inquiries. [6]
Category: The 1975 (Band)
Genre: F/M, Porn With Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:14:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/red__moon/pseuds/red__moon
Summary: When plans change at the last minute and a date gets cancelled, Matty has a very specific form of payback in mind.‘I can be yours for the night… if that’s what you’d like?’‘We already do everything I like.’‘Then pick your favourite.’
Relationships: Matthew Healy/Original Female Character(s)
Series: brief inquiries. [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1925500
Kudos: 3





	so capricious.

‘Kara, it’s really not a good night, are you sure you can’t ask Dylan to step up?’

‘It’s an emergency. You know I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate, and you know the Puccini back to front. Please?’

Holding the phone away from my ear, I groan, hoping she won’t hear it too loudly. ‘Alright.’

‘You’re a star.’

With a click, Kara hangs up, and I know what my next call will be. I hate bailing on people, and I’m still not even sure what Matty and I are to each other, so it’s a slightly risky move. That conversation will have to come up at some point, and I don’t want to look like the non-committal one. I find his contact, and dial.

‘Everything alright?’

My heart swells at hearing his voice. ‘Well… that’s debatable. I’m not going to be able to make it tonight, the principal cellist has sprained her wrist so understudy duties call.’

‘Bloody hell. Bit cheeky of her, isn’t it? Haven’t you just done a matinee?’

‘I know, it’s a pain in the arse. I’m so sorry.’

‘Don’t apologise, I’m only kidding. It can’t be helped. You know…’ he pauses, and my anxiety rises, envisioning his annoyance. But when he speaks again, he sounds playful. ‘You could still come over a bit later. Much as I’d like to wine and dine you, I’m not going anywhere else, so once your performance finishes we could still hang out.’

I sit up a bit straighter on the sofa, even his euphemism faintly thrilling me. ‘Oh god, I’d really like that. It’s been too long, hasn’t it?’

‘Mm, two weeks… in fact, I think you owe me.’ He’s teasing me now.

‘Of course,’ I say quickly. ‘Whatever you like.’

‘Whatever I like?’ He falters slightly. I can just imagine his face on the other end of the call - eyes wide, chewing his lip.

‘Yes,’ I reply smugly, dropping my voice suggestively. ‘I can be yours for the night… if that’s what you’d like?’

‘We already do everything I like.’

‘Then pick your favourite.’ I say, hanging up before he tries to negotiate any further. Let his imagination run wild, for a bit. It’s symbiotic, of course - I can feel my cheeks flushing, and it’ll be a good reward for graciously sacrificing the evening out. 

***

I don’t go home from the Royal Opera House, instead grabbing a taxi. Matty’s place is a half-hour drive away, so by the time I reach his, it’s gone midnight.

‘You must be exhausted.’ He presses a kiss to my cheek as he greets me at the door, before stepping back to let me in. He’s relatively dressed down, as I’d expected; barefoot in one of the old pairs of faded black jeans and a misshapen hoodie. I’m quite envious of his comfort, feeling the waistband of my tights digging uncomfortably into my stomach. ‘I’ve missed you, you know.’

‘Me too.’ I let my gaze linger on his, dumping my bag onto the nearest chair. ‘Have you made up your mind yet?’

‘Oh!’ His expression changes in an instant, suddenly hilariously gleeful. ‘I was just looking forward to tonight generally. But just, um… just do what I say, yeah?’

‘Alright,’ I say quietly, taking his hand gently and running my fingers over his.

‘You sure you’re okay with that?’

‘Yes, Matty,’ I burst out laughing, unable to maintain an act of sensuality any longer. ‘I just said so.’

‘But you will tell me if you change your mind?’

‘Of course.’ His concern is comforting, and I bring his hand to my mouth now, kissing the knuckles slowly. He shuffles from foot to foot and stares at me for a moment, before speaking again.

‘Take your coat off.’

It’s a start. I drop his hand, shrugging my coat off my shoulders and wiggling my brows comically. ‘Kinky.’

‘Don’t speak too soon.’ Matty’s voice is low, controlled, and he walks slowly behind me. I don’t realise quite how tense I am until he touches the centre of my upper back. It feels a little like a performance, not dissimilar to the way the actors moved around on the stage above me as the orchestra played. But as I play, Verdi or Purcell or whoever, nobody traces my spine in a way that sends tingles radiating outwards, or slips their hands over my abdomen, caressing the velvet of my smart black dress and gripping my hipbones assuredly, in the manner that he does now. ‘Go upstairs and take this off.’

The way he’s phrased it sounds like he’ll come up afterwards, but as I climb up the stairs, I realise he’s right behind me. He steps into the bedroom immediately after too, and stands to one side as I hover at the end of the bed, reaching behind me to pull the zip of my dress down. I push it off my shoulders and let it drop to the floor, kicking it to one side. Still a little uncertain, I keep my eyes on Matty, who watches me intently and looks like he’s enjoying himself.

‘I didn’t know that was part of the uniform.’ He nods at my underwear, the rich dark red of the bra’s material against my skin.

‘It’s not,’ I breathe.

He yanks the hoodie off over his head and steps towards me finally. He’s wearing nothing underneath, and I’m distracted by his beautiful upper body, the tattoos on his slender forearms; as much as the pulse between my legs wants our hips to meet, my mind finds enormous pleasure in being skin to skin even like this. He dips his head to kiss my shoulder gently, one finger lifting a strap down. His mouth travels along my collarbone as his hand moves to my ribs, the tips of his fingers brushing tantalisingly against my chest.

I’m beginning to wonder how this constitutes a debt that I owe, exactly. It doesn’t feel like I’m having to exert myself - he’s just taking his time over me, and I’m letting him. But then that’s the crux of it, I guess. Taking the reciprocity away makes me a plaything, and all I can do is react. In the months we’ve been dating and sleeping together, it’s clear that he enjoys sensual pleasures and short-term gratification, both giving and receiving. The psychological element has come last, I suppose, which suggests that we’re so confident in our feelings and intentions for one another that we can try another guise on, in the interest of titillation. He could never bore me, that much is obvious.

Matty has circled around me and stands behind my shoulder now, his hands wrapping around my waist. One of them drifts down and draws a tantalising, light line over my underwear, where my clit already palpitates with anticipation. My spine curves as I tip my head back in pleasure, and he presses his hardening crotch between my buttocks. Though these are only small suggestions of the actions that will come later, they have the capacity to send shudders through me.

‘Bend over.’

His voice still surprises me, low and thick with lust. I place my palms on the bed in front of me, and lean down until my chest rests on the sheets, my hips sticking out towards him. I’m acutely sensitive to sound and touch in a way that I wasn’t moments ago, since I have no idea what he’s preparing to do out of my line of sight.

Hands grip my upper thighs, and I gasp in surprise as his mouth presses openly, wetly, against the softest part of my backside. He does the same on the other side, grazing me with his teeth this time. My knickers are pulled gently over my hips and drop to the floor; I step out of them reflexively, just before my knees quiver and threaten to give way as his tongue dives in, exploring my labia from behind. His tongue might be my favourite part of him, despite some close competition, and I wish that I could see what he was doing with it, how he’s creating the sensation of being everywhere between my legs whilst probing one spot.

I moan into the sheets shamelessly, grasping at the material frantically as my orgasm builds. One of his hands feels forward to find mine, his cool fingers linking with mine tightly. Before I slept with Matty, I didn’t think of myself as loud in bed. But there are some things he does that make me lose it.

He relents after I’ve come, half-supported by him as the tension is released in glorious waves. I’m even more aroused after the first orgasm than I was before.

‘Matty… please, just fuck-’

‘Shhh.’ His hand flies up to my parted mouth as I straighten up, two fingers on my tongue. I close my lips over them, sucking gently to alleviate my desperate desire. At last, he’s the one to make an involuntary sound, sighing heavily in my ear. When he pulls his hand away again, it’s to turn me back to face him. I nudge forward a little to kiss him, knowing I’ll taste myself on him, but he doesn’t dip his head to meet me; we stand nose to nose, exchanging heated breath as he smoothly unbuttons his jeans and sheds the last layers of clothing. Normally I would reach down and take him in my hand, take charge of his pleasure and begin the next round. But as instructed, I don’t move, waiting for him to act.

‘You’re perfect,’ Matty says, more quietly now, pulling me against him by my hips. At last, he closes the distance between our mouths, his tongue tracing my upper lip. His cock presses against my lower stomach tantalisingly, and his hands slide around behind my arse, squeezing suddenly and issuing a sharp slap. I cry out in pleasure into his mouth, feeling him smirk against my lips. ‘Tell me what you want now.’

‘Just fuck me.’

‘How?’ His eyes glitter darkly; he’s slightly breathless now too, from the anticipation. My head spins with the pleasure of being looked at like that.

‘Slow, but… don’t be gentle. I trust you.’

It means that I don’t have to think for a second about how to move to please him - on this occasion, I want to be handled, to have things done to me, rather than worry about exercising my own skill. I know he likes the things I do too, but part of the novelty is taking turns.

And when Matty pushes me back on the bed and parts my knees roughly, it’s exactly what I want. He’s careful in placing himself, but I’m wet enough that he’s able to slip inside easily; I inhale sharply and breathe in his intoxicating scent, his curls falling into my face as it contorts with lust. My legs squeeze tightly against his sides. I feel him flex and push harder, digging deeply into the movement and finding our limit.

Just as I asked, he’s slow to pull out and thrust forward again, but the force behind it is urgent and compulsive, his hips moving smoothly in a steady rhythm. His expression is, for lack of a better word, blissed out, with no need to focus on what is coming easy to him. He watches me keenly for my own reactions, and as I bite my lip sharply at the oncoming ecstasy, it makes him smile deviously and press his tongue into my mouth again, catching my gasps and uncontrolled writhings beneath him.

Inch by inch, Matty pushes himself further onto the bed until he’s able to roll us both over without pulling apart. ‘Ride me,’ he mutters, ‘the way you do it.’

I use what’s left of my body strength to rise up a little and hover over his chest as I roll my hips, fixing my eyes on his again and fixing the filthiest look I can on my face. His fingers dig harder into my arse, sure to leave marks when we’re done; his own desire is building, a hint of desperation in the curl of his lip. I tense myself around his cock, and grab his hand from my behind, pressing it to my clit - he understands what I’m trying to do, to synchronise our climax as well as I can. 

In the end I come just before him, dropping forward and shuddering helplessly, and he buries his face in my neck, his hips jerking up erratically. I love to watch him come, to see him find his climax within me. Verbalising this in my head edges dangerously close to the depth of my feelings for him too, and I’m reminded of how much I hope this will continue and grow, how badly I need him to need me in return.

I smile at Matty, indulgently, dizzily. He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek with his forefinger and carefully traces my features, his dark eyes and delicate face unreadable for a few brief moments until he cracks a smile of his own. I breathe easy this evening, knowing that the affection is real, and it is shared.


End file.
